


Things Flow Forward

by Avierra



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:53:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avierra/pseuds/Avierra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Notes: Minor editing for SPAG and clarity (07/06/2015). It was driving me nuts.</p></blockquote>





	Things Flow Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indelicateink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indelicateink/gifts).



**Fandom:** Saiyuki  
**Title:** Things Flow Forward  
**Author/Artist:** Avierra  
**Warnings:** language, descriptions of gore  
**Pairing(s):** Cho Hakkai/ Sha Gojyo  
**Notes: For the Battle #3 challenge prompt: Courage**

(Inspired by an old prompt by Indelicate Ink from Valentine’s Day Flash Challenge: Gojyo/Hakkai - confessing your love for your roommate right before you throw yourself into mortal peril... and then not dying after all. (I AM SO SORRY I DIDN’T FINISH IT BACK THEN. But I hope you enjoy it.)

**Points for Gojyo**

 

If Gojyo had ever wondered what Kougaiji would look like as a zombie—he hadn’t, but it was kind of funny to think about while he peeked out from behind the carved stone column where he and Hakkai had ducked—his curiosity was officially appeased. The giant undead monster was a dead ringer— _haha see what I did there_ , he thought wildly—for the youkai prince.

If Kougaiji were dead, that was, which he might be. Gojyo had last seen him trying to evacuate his people from the lab area, but there had been a lot of screaming and blood and body parts flying around while people tried to get away from the rampaging Gyuumaoh-thing, so it was hard to say with any certainty. There was _still_ a lot of screaming, and people pressing tight against the walls trying to escape being thrashed or crushed by the monster. One fucking exit to the room, really great emergency planning there.

The monster seemed to like screams, or maybe the sound attracted its attention. But at least the first screams had started with Kougaiji’s fucking awful stepmother. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had snickered a little bit when her head and body went flying in opposite directions with one swipe from the monster’s claws. Apparently it had been unimpressed with her screeching professions of devotion; its attention had focused on her unrelentingly as soon as she had opened her big mouth, just as if she had had a target painted on her beautiful forehead. Karma, baby.

But holy shit that thing was fast. Even with bits and pieces starting to fall off, and its grey skin sloughing and cracking in bloody rips, it still had managed to send Sanzo flying, cutting off his Makai Tenjyo-ing in mid-syllable. He might have been knocked into a column, but Gojyo wasn’t sure about that. Goku was near him at least, but the last time he had seen the twerp he had been beating away some sort of security devices, robots maybe? Gojyo didn’t know, but they had looked mechanical. He could hear Goku shouting, although he couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying through the commotion and chaos. But he was still alive at least.

He couldn’t hear Sanzo.

And Hakkai, Hakkai, was here with him, but they were pinned down; it wasn’t like the zombie-Gyuumaoh gave a shit if he careened hard against the room’s support columns, or if his gigantic head hit the ceiling and made chunks of it fall onto his massive shoulders. It didn’t even shrug it off: it didn’t appear to notice at all. The room was beginning to crumble around them, and here and there the banks of smashed machinery sparked ominously into little licks of flame. The air was growing smokier by the moment.

Hakkai had chi-cannoned the undead bastard, but his last burst had made the monster flail into a column, resulting in an alarming crash of chunks of stone and rubble all too near them. And it hadn’t so much as slowed the creature, although there was now a smoking hole in its guts. It had just added another layer of stench to the already horrific odors of rotting flesh and new blood.

Hakkai needed to get across the room to Sanzo and get him back up and chanting, or shooting, or something.

They needed a distraction.

He glanced at Hakkai, peeping around the side of the column, and sighed. Somehow, deep inside, he had always known it would come down to something like this. He hadn’t expected to make it back home, not really. But he had hoped, had wanted a different life with someone who—eh. Oh well, enough of that. When he had been nineteen-years-old it sort of felt like the world stood wide-open before him, at least after meeting Hakkai. The actual reality of his life was that you ended things staring upwards at a zombified demon king’s rotting junk. Which, come to think of it, was something no one should ever have to see.

“Hey,” he whispered, keeping a wary eye on the thing. He gingerly moved closer to Hakkai.

“I’ve got a plan. Gonna distract that thing and do as much damage as I can before it takes me out. So you can get over to Sanzo and get him back up.” He paused. Hakkai turned and glanced at him, and Gojyo sighed again. Even now, covered in dust and grime, Hakkai somehow looked pristine, except for that one shock of hair he never managed to get under control, and he stared at Gojyo like he’d never really seen him before.

“What the hell.” He laughed, rueful and maybe a little bitter, and leaned over and kissed Hakkai hard on the mouth. “Love you.” He fucking hated regrets, and he would have preferred a meaningful exchange of glances from across the room, but that was kind of sappy too, when it came down to it. So no goodbyes and no regrets: he just reached over and ran his thumb along the curve of Hakkai’s cheekbone. It was still the hardest thing he’d ever said or done. Then he stood, shakujou ready and responsive in his hands, its chain ready for his commands.

Hakkai’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, probably to argue, but before he could say anything Gojyo cut him off. “Later!”

He leaped towards the abomination, away from Hakkai’s position, weaving around a nearby column and wrapping the shakujou’s chain around it as an anchor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hakkai dart towards Goku and Sanzo, and he leaned back and let out a screech, so high pitched his throat ached. It was hard for him to sound shrill, but he tried, screaming and waving his free arm at it.

“Hey! Motherfucker! Over here!” He whistled at it, and it turned its terrible face towards him and lurched forward. Reeking, seeping fissures in its skin opened up as it twisted around, and Gojyo fought back a surge of bile.

He raced towards its feet, praying he didn’t get stomped as he twisted the chains in and around its ankles, then jumped on a pile of debris and vaulted onto its shoulder. It was hard to keep his balance: Gyuumaoh’s body was slick and shiny with gore and chemicals from the resurrection chamber that had spawned him. The skin on Gojyo’s hands began to smolder from the foul mix of caustic fluids, but he kept his grip on the shakujou and looped a length of chain around the thing’s neck, pulling hard and digging the crescent blade into the rubbery muscles of its throat. A gout of... something, viscous and putrid-smelling, splashed over his chest and arms—no honest blood from this thing—and he began to burn in earnest.

Huge hands swatted at him, trying to dislodge him, but it overbalanced and fell to its knees as the shakujou’s chains tangled in its feet. The flailing edge of its arm caught him and dashed him hard into the rubble, the dead weight grinding him into stone splinters fallen from the ceiling. He hit his head hard against the rocks, and his vision sparked. A trickle of something seeped down his neck, and stone shards stabbed like a razor in his back. He had felt his bones snap and crush from the impact: there was no sensation where his legs should be.

At least the monster was tangled up in chains, and the more it flailed the more tangled it became.

He was burning, smoke from his own flesh choking him. It hurt too much to even breathe, and he decided to stop trying. The last thing he heard was Sanzo’s voice beginning to chant, Goku’s whoops of happiness (idiot kid, Gojyo wanted to laugh, but-oh-fuck, even the very thought was a torment); and another, the tenor voice of a teenage kid, joining him.

***

“…out.” That was Hakkai, his voice was all sharp edges and lack of control, as if he’d been pushed a step or three into Hakkai crazy-land.

“Hakkai. You need to let go. You can’t—” Sanzo was probably the only person on the face of the planet who’d continue arguing with a Hakkai speaking in that tone.

“I said. _Get_. _Out_.” That was literally growled, and accompanied by the surging _youryoku_ of enraged youkai and the burning scent of ozone, both of which were something Gojyo had had ample experience with over the course of his life.

“Hak—” he gasped, but it actually came out as mostly a wet, gurgle-y moan. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t quite accomplish that particular feat, either. There was a very brief silence, and then the sounds of a struggle of some sort. He heard the door slam and bolt. Then fingers entwined with his, and fuck that hurt, but he tried to clutch back, to let Hakkai know he was still there.

“Shhh. Don’t talk.”

The cool wash of Hakkai’s chi swept through him and the metallic scent of blood tainted the air. Hakkai’s weight slumped onto the edge of the bed, panting, and then another wash of chi. And another and another. The smell of blood grew stronger. He gasped again, trying to draw enough breath to tell Hakkai something important, like maybe Hakkai should worry about himself, or even to just take Sanzo’s advice for once.

“Go to sleep, Gojyo,” he heard Hakkai say, his tone still razor-edged, jagged shards. It sounded like he was speaking from a mile away. “I’ll be here. I’m not leaving.” Hakkai’s fingers twined with his again. “You’d better not leave either.” He gave up the struggle to remain conscious and sank into blessed blackness.

***

“…is this crap.” Sanzo snorted, but then his voice continued, oddly soothing. Gojyo wanted to float on that voice. “Whatever.” He cleared his throat and continued. “‘Athena went away to Olympus, which they say is the everlasting home of the gods. Here no wind beats roughly, and neither rain nor snow can fall; but it abides in everlasting sunshine and a great peacefulness of light, wherein the blessed gods are illumined for ever and ever.’” He snorted again and turned the page with a snap. “Wankers.”

Gojyo heard Sanzo take a drag on his cigarette and flick the ash off. The cigarette smelled fucking great, and he wanted badly to inhale the smoke. He distantly wondered if he could piss off Sanzo enough to get him to blow it at him.

“The fuck are you reading?” he managed to whisper instead. It hurt, a lot. His voice sounded nothing like his own baritone. He sounded like an old man, raspy and weak.

Sanzo’s voice stopped abruptly. “Good of you to join us. Hopefully you’ll let us know when you’ve finished malingering, so we can get the hell out of here,” he said after a moment. He actually sounded a little uncertain, as if he wasn’t quite certain of what direction to take the conversation.

Gojyo managed a feeble sneer to let Sanzo know he wasn’t going to croak. The skin of his face pulled a little, pain surged, and he passed out again.

***

“Oh, cool, you’re awake!” said Goku. He peered down at Gojyo, his golden eyes serious and kind, which was kind of weird to see mixed in with his usual cheerful expression. Gojyo must have been pretty bad off.

“Hey twerp,” rasped Gojyo. He struggled to sit up. The effort was right on the edge of agonizing, especially in his back and legs, but he thought he might manage it.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” said Goku after watching Gojyo try to thrash around for a couple of seconds, but he got up and arranged the pillows so Gojyo could recline into them. His hands were very gentle as he eased Gojyo into place. Even that little bit of exertion was exhausting, and he was panting like a dog by the time he was readjusted. It took a few seconds before he realized he _was_ panting, although it was still painful and felt kind of weird, like his chest wouldn’t expand properly.

Goku opened the curtains and window up and sat on a little stool beside the bed, watching him intently. The bright light made Gojyo’s eyes tear up, and he had to turn his head.

“Want to play cards or something?” Goku asked. His leg jiggled incessantly. “Or I can get Hakkai or Sanzo?” He sounded very young and unsure, and it was almost more than Gojyo could bear.

“I want a beer… and a cigarette,” he only half-joked. He wanted to laugh at Goku’s disapproving expression, but it didn’t come out as much of anything except a wheeze. “Shit… don’t pout… at me. Fine. Deal ‘em.”

He fell asleep to Goku’s voice telling him all about the various creature comforts of Houtou Castle.

***

It’d been weeks since the final battle. Even with Hakkai's regular efforts he’d been unable to even walk properly for quite some time, but now the physical exercise of just walking was a grim task he set himself every day: down the stairs, up some other stairs, around the ramparts twice, where he could be away from everyone and have some time to think. And then over and over again, until he ended up back in his room and collapsed. His back and legs still ached, especially when it rained, but it was getting better, even if he had to use a cane to get around. He didn’t stoop like some old geezer anymore, so that had to be counted as progress. He couldn’t summon his shakujou; he hoped that was just because he wasn’t strong enough yet. He didn’t ask Goku if he could still summon Nyoibou.

He finally asked for a mirror. His face wasn’t burned too badly: a patch of pink on his jaw. His hands, lower arms, neck and part of his shoulders were a mass of scars and blotchy skin. Probably his leather jacket and jeans had helped protect the rest of him to a certain extent, so he guessed it could have been worse.

The four of them had played board games, cards, and so on, until he thought he might scream. That was the point he decided he needed to leave his room, and maybe fucking Houtou Castle. He was either going to go crazy, or kill someone.

The mirror told him that his hair was cropped close, except for a spiky fringe over his forehead, for some reason. He looked a lot like the same asshole from six years ago, when he had first met Hakkai.

He felt about a million years older than that person.

***

Hakkai had taken to walking around in his youkai form, which came as something of a surprise to Gojyo. He hadn’t even known until he had run across Hakkai while doing his laps around the castle grounds, and at first it hadn’t registered with him. Hakkai was pretty hard to mistake for anyone else, though, even smiling and surrounded by a laughing group of youkai chicks, so after a second of non-comprehension, Gojyo had waved, and kept walking. Hobbling, rather.

If he thought about it, it made sense, though. Houtou Castle was probably the first place where Hakkai had been surrounded by a large number of youkai who were essentially normal people, even if they were normal people who had been trying to kill them all a few weeks earlier. Maybe he finally felt like he could just let that side of him out, and it would just be… normal.

The people in it might have been more or less normal, but the general atmosphere of Houtou Castle made Gojyo think of ancient evils and corruption that could never be cleansed, like the very air was tainted. That probably had at least a little to do with what had happened to him, but Gojyo felt it went beyond that. Houtou Castle was... unwholesome. 

But that wasn't even the main problem with being stuck here. The main problem was the other three all treated Gojyo like he was made of china, and they were afraid he might shatter. He found that he was beginning to actively avoid them. It was weird, because they’d all been hurt before, even badly. He didn’t know what was different about now, but it was like acid in an open wound. And he was well-acquainted with how that felt.

Mostly, he wanted to go back to Chang’an with every fiber of his being.

***

The new masters of Houtou Castle, by which everyone meant Kougaiji and Yaone-chan, were throwing some sort of event in remembrance of those who had died. There had been a funeral for Queen Ratsetsunyo and Gyuumaoh himself, but the party was also to celebrate the impending marriage of Prince Kougaiji and Yaone-chan.

He didn’t attend-- he wasn’t particularly his usual graceful self anymore, and he wasn’t sure dancing was a possibility in any case-- but he did watch the dancing from the shadows.

The main thing he saw was Kougaiji and Yaone, both dressed in black, dancing together. They looked happy, but also, sort of... incomplete, or something.

And, of course, Hakkai and his harem, with whom Gojyo had crossed paths a number of times since that first time. He hadn’t even known Hakkai could dance. They seemed like nice girls, though, funny and smart and all the things that Gojyo expected Hakkai would like in a partner. Gojyo supposed that the search for the indestructible wife was in full swing.

He saw Sanzo and Goku leave the party together. That made him grin, and he wished he could tell Hakkai “I told you so,” but he wondered what those two were going to do when and if they went back to Chang’an, if there was a place there for them. He had no idea what he was going to do, either. He just knew he wanted to get the fuck away from Houtou.

He felt like that guy who kept pushing a boulder up the hill only to watch it come crashing down each time. Or was it the guy who kept trying to grab grapes? Or maybe it was that dragon guy who kept swallowing his own tail, chasing himself around and around in a circle, forever. He didn’t know; he hadn’t paid much attention when Hakkai was telling those stories to Goku.

Mostly, though, he felt like a masochist as he watched Hakkai perform as the evidently-enthralling center of a crowd of circling proto-wives. But Hakkai looked happy, laughing and chatting. _Socializing_. Gojyo almost felt like he was watching through one of those funhouse mirrors that made everything look backwards from what it really was. All Gojyo knew was that he wasn’t going to try and interfere with that. Hakkai was happy, that was good enough for Gojyo. Maybe Kougaiji could lend him a dragon or something to get back home.

Although, “home” opened up another whole can of worms that he didn’t want to think about too deeply.

Someone appeared suddenly at his elbow; he almost wasn’t able to pull his punch in time. Sometimes he wondered if he was actually fit to return to society. He suspected not; he had the reflexes of someone who expected to be jumped at any time. It made being around him a little dicey for people who weren’t also expecting to be jumped at any time.

“Gojyo-san,” said Yaone. “You aren’t dancing?” She appeared not to notice he had nearly decked her, but since he had good reason to know she was perfectly capable of decking him back, she must have decided to ignore it.

“Nah,” he said. “Not up for that yet, I guess.” His eyes strayed unbidden to the dance floor, and he turned away. “Congratulations,” he said.

Her eyes followed his, and her gaze turned shrewd. “Thank you. I am hoping we can restore a bit of stability. To everyone. But that amount of change will be a long time coming. It’s pretty bad out there, but you know that. We could use people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. You could stay to help,” she said.

Gojyo shrugged and wished he had a cigarette. He hadn’t actually had once since the final battle: Hakkai said his lungs needed to recuperate. He sort of thought that was probably bullshit and Hakkai was just seizing an opportunity, but he still hadn’t actually smoked in months for the first time since his early teens.

She tugged on his arm. “Come with me. I have something to show you,” she said.

She set a pace that he could keep up with and still not feel as if she were coddling him, and stopped in front of a room guarded by two well-armored youkai. They stood at attention as she smiled at them, and then stepped past them.

The rooms here were warm and cozy, smelling of flowers and some undefinable sweetness. A woman sat in a rocking chair with an infant in her arms. “He’s been a mite restless, ma’am,” she said, and handed the baby to Yaone. The woman nodded and curtseyed to both of them, which made Gojyo feel sort of awkward, and left.

Gojyo looked at the baby and smiled, running a finger along the baby’s soft cheek. “Little cutie,” he said, softly. “I didn’t know you had...” and stopped, because it was kind of a dumb thing to say. “What’s his name?”

“Jien,” she said.

“Ah.” He could see it now, the strong features softened by baby-fat, the little mouth that would one day be wide and laughing; the thick, spiky, dark hair; eyes that would eventually turn bright blue. “Well, he has the Sha face. Sorry about that.” She smiled, but it was sad also.

“When Doku and Kou left to go to…” she paused. “He was the reason I wasn’t there with them.” She handed Gojyo the baby and watched, smiling, while Gojyo crooned at him and jiggled him.

She took the baby over her shoulder and patted his back while he fell back asleep. “I planned to have a life with Doku and Kou. That isn’t how things fell out, but life goes on and plans change. You could stay, and be very welcome,” she said.

“I’ll think about it,” Gojyo answered.

***

Gojyo had taken to long walks outside the castle walls; once or twice he camped out, secreting himself in nooks in the surrounding mountains. He hadn’t come across anything-- human, youkai or animal-- he couldn’t handle, but the day he was finally able to summon his shakujou had been a welcome one. The summoning had left him shaking and gasping, dripping with sweat, but it appeared in his hand as if it never had left him. It looked as if it had been in a war, the blades and shaft pocked and warped, stained black; but each time he called it, it looked cleaner than the last. After that, he practiced with it, falling back into the old patterns of movement, if not easily. The scarred skin on his hands sometimes stretched the wrong way and tore, bleeding, but even that began to heal properly, until it felt almost right again.

It was his practice to limber up in front of the gates before he headed out in the morning, taking a moment to breath in the clean mountain air and rest. He leaned against the gatepost and looked out over the countryside, the early morning mist lying like smoky lakes in the surrounding valleys.

“I think we need to talk, Gojyo,” Hakkai said from behind him. Once again Gojyo had to stop himself from belting someone sneaking up behind him. He wondered if he’d ever get to a point where that wasn’t his first instinct.

Hakkai was carrying a basket. There were no girls in sight, although there was a dragon on his shoulder. Hakuryuu chirped at Gojyo, extending his neck to be scratched. Gojyo obliged him, smiling a bit. That was how pathetic he was: he’d even missed the flying rat.

Hakkai was in his human form: wearing his normal clothes, his hair that weird little shock, his eyes back to one color. He looked so… Hakkai-ish that Gojyo almost couldn’t stand it.

"We do?" Gojyo couldn't think of many things he'd prefer to do less than have a talk that began with the words, "I think we need to talk."

“Yes, I think so. Were you going out today?” His glance swept over Gojyo, taking in the hiking boots, the thick clothing, and fastened on Gojyo’s face. “I thought we might have a picnic.”

“You did?” said Gojyo cautiously.

“Yes, I fixed you some of your favorites.” Gojyo couldn’t recall the last time Hakkai had cooked for him. Some point months in the past, anyway. He felt oddly touched.

He thought for a bit, revising his schedule for the day, such as it was. “Well, okay. I know a good spot, if you’re up for a hike.”

He set a brisk pace, picking a path upwards through the hills' undergrowth of tangled forest, until they arrived at clearing with a clear mountain stream and tiny pond. A rainbow glinted off a sparkling waterfall, and the panorama of the surrounding countryside unfolded before them all the way to the horizon.

Off in the not-too-far distance, Houtou Castle perched like a black spider on the bosom of the land. Maybe one of the things Yaone and Kougaiji could take care of was to make that place less malignant-looking, although Gojyo thought that nothing short of razing it would do the trick.

“That really is an amazingly ugly construction,” Hakkai said, pursing his lips and apparently reading Gojyo's mind. He flipped out a pristine table cloth and began setting out dishes, handing Gojyo an icy can of beer as an appetizer.

Hakkai looked him over with the same critical gaze, his mouth still pursed. “You should eat more; I can see you haven’t been taking proper care of yourself. Honestly, Gojyo.” He dished up food and handed it to over.

“Eh. I can get around pretty well now.” The conversation was becoming a little awkward. He put the plate down and took off his boots and rolled up his pants, wading into the shallow little pond. The water was like ice, probably from snow melt, but it felt pretty good in the afternoon heat. He could feel Hakkai’s eyes on his back, and turned around and grinned at him. “Probably no kappa in this pond.”

“I suppose you could move right in, then. Perhaps there’s a convenient cave behind the waterfall.”

“Sounds cold. And damp.” He took off his shirt and threw it on the bank, wiggling his toes against the pebbled bottom of the little pond while he drank his beer. The sun felt warm on his back, and for the first time in months he felt himself relax.

He was almost finished with his lunch, when Hakkai said, “Were you going to tell me you were leaving?”

Gojyo took a deep breath. “I haven’t decided that yet.”

“But you want to.”

“Well yeah.” Gojyo was puzzled. “This place is horrible. Even you think it’s horrible.”

“Well, we don’t have to stay here. But if you can stand it for a while longer, I’d like to stay until spring. I am doing some research you see, and there’s an amazing library at the castle. Also going back over the mountains in winter will be unpleasant, to say the least. And we should plan.”

“You keep saying ‘we.’ Why are we ‘we’ ?”

“Oh,” said Hakkai. “I thought… You said…”

Gojyo made a rough gesture and stared out over the mountain and didn’t pretend he didn’t know what Hakkai was talking about. For probably the millionth time he wished he had a cigarette. Maybe he could bum some off Sanzo; he had thought about it. But he hadn’t wanted to disturb him and Goku in their newly-found sort-of-wedded bliss, either.

“You seem happy here,” Gojyo said, finally. “And you’re finding interest in other things and people, too. So it’s all good. I’m truly glad for you. And that’s… what I want for you. You to be happy. And if it isn’t me, well, that’s how it goes.” And that was the second hardest thing he had ever said, but it was just as true as the first.

“Ah. My ladyfriends,” said Hakkai. His mouth twisted, a little bitter, and Gojyo wondered what was going to come out.

“They’re all great girls, and pretty. Probably indestructible too, if you’re into that.” He grinned.

“I just wanted to make sure,” said Hakkai at last, apparently choosing his words with some care. “And you’re the most indestructible person I know.” He reached out and touched the knuckles of Gojyo’s scarred hand, twining his fingers, and Gojyo had a flash of memory, of tears and blood and pain, and a clawed hand fiercely clutching his own and forcibly preventing him from going. “But just barely.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You seem to have become some kind of smooth operator, a real silver-tongued devil.” Gojyo started smiling, and Hakkai relaxed, as if his strings had been cut. Gojyo hadn’t even realized just how tense the guy was, which yeah, made him kind of a dick.

“Perhaps I should demonstrate some of my moves.” Hakkai reached up and ran his fingers through the short locks of Gojyo’s cropped hair. “I’ve saved the best of them for you, you see.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Gojyo, and leaned over to Hakkai and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Minor editing for SPAG and clarity (07/06/2015). It was driving me nuts.


End file.
